


golden week

by peppershrike



Series: tracing my way back to you [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bad Writing, Friends With Benefits, Gay Panic, How Do I Tag, M/M, Pining, Teenage Awkwardness, The Author Regrets Everything, What Have I Done, Yaku Morisuke is So Done, kind of, kuroo cant deal with crushes, like really bad, midnight chats, no beta we die like daichi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29550690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppershrike/pseuds/peppershrike
Summary: When Kuroo caught sight of Akaashi Keiji stepping off the Fukurodani bus at Shinzen’s training camp, his first thought was that nobody who looked like that should allowed to play volleyball. Someone that pretty had to be filed under some kind of distraction, because how was anyone expected to play with him standing on the other side of the net? Vaguely, he realized he was probably staring, but his eyes seemed to have gotten tangled up in soft dark curls and long eyelashes, drifting over movements that seemed like they belonged to a ballet dancer rather than a volleyball player.Kuroo wanted to introduce his hands to the way Akaashi Keiji moved....or, kuroo is a mess but it all works out. stan kuroaka *backflips off a cliff*
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou, side Konoha Akinori/Yaku Morisuke
Series: tracing my way back to you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2171034
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	golden week

_DAY ONE._

When Kuroo caught sight of Akaashi Keiji stepping off the Fukurodani bus at Shinzen’s training camp, his first thought was that nobody who looked like that should allowed to play volleyball. Someone that pretty had to be filed under some kind of distraction, because how was anyone expected to play with _him_ standing on the other side of the net? Vaguely, he realized he was probably staring, but his eyes seemed to have gotten tangled up in soft dark curls and long eyelashes, drifting over movements that seemed like they belonged to a ballet dancer rather than a volleyball player. 

Kuroo wanted to introduce his hands to the way Akaashi Keiji moved.

It was Yaku, of course, who slapped his shoulder and snapped him out of it. “Quit staring, idiot,” he hissed, looking for all the world like a ruffled little tabby cat. “We’re here to train our first years and help out Karasuno, not for you to moon over Fukurodani’s setter for a week straight.”

“I’m not--”

“You are,” Kenma said, appearing beside Kuroo without taking his eyes off his Nintendo Switch. “You stared all of last year’s training camp, please do us all a favor and either tell him or cut it out.”

“It’s painful to watch,” Kai said gently. “I don’t blame you for staring,” he added, ever the peacemaker, while Kenma and Yaku raised identical eyebrows and gave him an unimpressed stare. 

“Whatever, let’s just get settled in,” Kuroo grumbled, waving his arm to gather the first years. He led them to Nekoma’s sleeping area, pointedly staring straight ahead when they passed by the cluster of silvery-white Fukurodani jackets, and shook out a mattress beside Yaku and Kenma. 

“Seriously, Kuroo,” Yaku started, uncharacteristically quiet. “You’ve crushed on him since last Golden Week, it’s unlike you to _not_ make a move.” Kuroo stared at Yaku, who for all his ferocity and fire had the instincts of a mother lion, and wondered, now that it had been so clearly pointed out why he hadn’t done anything about it. He would have last year, he realized, if not for realizing that he was more afraid of being rejected and losing the tentative friendship they had than of not doing anything at all. Not that Yaku would see that as a valid reason.

“He’s Bokuto’s setter, for one,” Kuroo tried. “And Bokuto’s one of my best friends. Which might be weird.” It meant, _I’m kind of freaked out that I like him this much, because this is more than lustful infatuation, which is a little crazy._

“Or it wouldn’t be, because Bokuto is kind of oblivious to the goings-on of people around him, and also because I doubt you’d do anything that would make Bokuto mad, and also because he’s his own person,” Yaku said crossly. “I’m not _your libero_ , I’m Nekoma’s libero. Dumbass,” he added. It meant, _you’re always a little crazy, get over yourself and do something about it_. 

“A damn good libero, at that,” Kuroo said quickly, because it was true, and because compliments could sometimes appease Yaku before he was served with a full-force lecture. “I’ll figure it out. Besides, it’s like you said, we’re here to train. Don’t you have Shibayama to adopt? And you’ve got to teach Lev how to receive, he’s terrible at it.”

“Yeah,” Yaku groaned. “That damn beanstalk. Also, be careful trying to turn Inuoka into Kuroo 2.0--he’s an innocent child who I’d prefer remain not corrupted by terrible volleyball sex jokes as a ‘teaching method’.”

“I’m as pure as freshly fallen snow--”

“Oh, that’s a lie,” Kenma murmured, dropping into their circle and resting his head on Yaku’s shoulder, still not looking up from their Switch. “Are you two still discussing how to turn Shiba-Inu into Kuroo and Yaku the Second?”

“Shiba-Inu? Is that what you’re calling them now?” Yaku asked, laughing, as he peered over Kenma’s head to where he was destroying goblins with a flaming sword. “I liked ‘the yakisoba twins’, that was a funny one.” Kuroo’s heart still warmed a little every time Kenma sought Yaku out for company or Yaku silently kept Kenma away from the exhaustingly louder members of their team--Kenma finding other people he was comfortable with made him strangely proud, not to mention fiercely glad his best friends were as close to each other as he was with them. 

“They’re like little excited puppies, though,” Kenma was saying, still explaining his latest nickname of Nekoma’s cheerful first years. “And they’ve basically merged into one person. How you two plan to turn said excited puppies into the next best libero in Tokyo and read-blocker extraordinaire I have no idea, but it’s probably going to be funny to watch. Good luck,” he added, glancing up at Kuroo. “And good luck with Keiji. That’s also going to be funny to watch,” hesmirked, before slaughtering eight goblins in quick succession and clearing the level. “Come on, Yaku, let’s get food.” They left, leaving Kuroo alone in the Nekoma sleeping area, the sounds of chatter and excitement muted by the closed screen door.

He groaned and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling, head full of thoughts of slender setter hands, sea green eyes, pretty mouth in a quiet smile Kuroo wanted to taste. The thought set his nerve endings fluttering, and he bit his tongue. He hadn’t spoken much with Akaashi last year, content with glimpses of him talking with Kenma out of the corner of his eye, and maybe a few more tilted smirks with each point they won against Fukurodani. A little tug in his stomach every time a ball was dumped over his head, a slightly harder tug upon meeting those unfairly beautiful eyes. Something burned there, behind the quiet politeness, and Kuroo desperately wanted to find out what it was. 

“KUROO!”

“Bokuto?” The glee of seeing his closest friend and partner in crime clashed awkwardly with the wispy fantasies drifting through his head, and Kuroo had to swallow down a wave of sudden embarrasment. Bokuto hopped into Nekoma’s sleeping area and pulled him up by the arm, and before he knew it he was being dragged along to one of the practice gyms. “Bro--”

“Three-on-three,” Bokuto announced. “No questions asked, I already got your libero to agree! I wanna see how Yakkun does against my new and improved spikes, he’s got something big headed his way!” Kuroo caught his breath, leaning heavily against the doorframe of the third gym, staring at an exasperated Yaku chatting with Konoha and--he gulped--Akaashi, along with Kenma who Yaku was holding onto by the shoulder as if he’d run away.

“Hey,” he said, shoving a hand through his hair and his nerves out of his mind. “Losers buy everyone something from the _konbini_ down the road?”

“Best of three, then,” Akaashi said, narrowing his eyes at Kuroo. _Damn pretty eyes_ , glittering teal like some precious gem, eyelashes dark and heavy as his gaze. Heat flipped through the pit of Kuroo’s stomach, and he felt himself narrowing his eyes and grinning right back. _A challenge, huh?_ “You’re on.” Akaashi just gave him a lofty look before turning to Konoha and Bokuto, prompting Yaku to tug Kuroo over to him and Kenma.

“Well it’s pretty obvious that our number one issue here is going to be Kuroo staring like a fool instead of, you know, playing volleyball,” Kenma said flatly. Kuroo glared.

“No, he’s going to try to show off and make an idiot of himself,” Yaku corrected, unfazed by Kuroo turning his glare on him. “Try to block Bo’s spikes, but don’t worry so much if they get through, I can pick them up. Kenma, be careful with that whole setter-versus-setter mental battle thing you do--Akaashi’s more than capable of holding his own there. Also for god’s sake keep an eye on Konoha, he’ll steal a dozen points in five seconds if you so much as glance away. Capisce, kids?” Kuroo opened his mouth, than closed it. Kenma nodded. 

“Aye aye, Yakkun,” Kuroo mumbled. He wondered what idiot had made the rule that liberos couldn’t be captain in volleyball teams. “Really, though. This is going to be fun.”

It was fun, the most Kuroo had had in a while. Akaashi and Kenma instantly clashed in a battle of who could make their captain piss the other one off more, except it looked a lot like them making fun of Bokuto and Kuroo together. Bokuto got a faintly concerning amount of spikes through Kuroo’s hands, only for them to be popped back up by Yaku, tossed by Kenma, shoved over the net by Kuroo, bumped up by Konoha, and so on. Kuroo was fiercely glad to have Yaku on his team and not anyone else’s--the only worse nightmare for a spiker than an iron wall was a libero who would just not let the damn ball touch the floor. He still couldn’t keep himself from catching Akaashi’s blue-green eyes far too often, Cheshire grinning at every kill block (never mind Konoha slammed half of his spikes back down as well) and scoffing at the unreasonable amount of unreadable feints and dumps from both sides. He watched Yaku grin bright and wild at Konoha’s _tch_ of irritation, Kenma glaring at Bokuto as he laughed, and leaned close to the net to smile at Akaashi. 

Oh, that was a mistake. Akaashi smiled back at him, all angelic innocence, and Kuroo briefly choked. Akaashi just laughed softly under his breath and turned away, nudging Bokuto from the strange faces he was pulling at Kenma. Eight setter dumps later, Kenma and Akaashi exchanging challenge-sharp looks with each one, Kuroo had had enough and tugged on Yaku’s arm. “This is a 48-point-deuce, can we pull out some secret endgame strategy before Kenma melts from overuse?”

“I heard that,” Kenma snapped. Yaku just groaned. 

“Kuroo, if we _had_ a secret endgame strategy do you not think we would have used it by now? Not my fault your half-assed read blocks keep flinging the ball out of bounds where I can’t exactly receive it.”

“Shut up,” Kuroo mumbled, but conceded. Two more points, and they would be treated to popsicles and a summer evening walk. He turned around and called, “Cycle service if we hit 50 deuce?”

“Sure,” Konoha replied, hands on hips. “You’re going down, alley cats.”

“Was that supposed to be an insult?” Yaku called, crossing his arms and grinning at Konoha. “You do know that cats hunt owls, right?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true,” Konoha replied. “Other way around, in fact. Get ready to have your asses handed to you, nyan nyan motherfuckers--”

“Oh, Akinori, you’re _so_ on.”

\---

They lost, definitely not because Yaku proved to be a hypocrite to end all hypocrites and missed a receive because Konoha grinned straight at him in all of his fox-eyed, sharp-smirked glory, and then Kuroo and Yaku got into a shouting match while Kenma chatted quietly with Konoha and Akaashi, and Bokuto juggled a volleyball with his feet, before Kenma cleared his throat loudly and jerked his head toward Akaashi. Kuroo swung his head around to glare at Kenma, who stared back at him flatly.

“Well, I think it’s time you pay up,” Konoha said cheerfully, winding his long arms around Yaku’s shoulders and resting his chin on his head. Kuroo looked away to avoid grinning archly at Yaku, mainly because he valued his life, and made the mistake of glancing at Akaashi instead. Teal eyes caught on his, glimmering with victory, and a smile appeared on Akaashi’s face. A little pointed thing that Kuroo wanted to devour. He arched his eyebrows at Akaashi and smirked right back, _is this flirting, this is flirting,_ and grinned wider as Akaashi shook his head and turned back to Kenma. Kuroo had always loved the thrill of the chase, of eye contact and subtle touches and delicate words, and Kuroo had always loved an enigma. Akaashi Keiji seemed to be everything Kuroo wanted to chase down and pin against a wall, and Kuroo would be lying if the thought didn’t set him reeling a little bit. 

Konoha interrupted his probably-creepy staring by tugging sharply on his ear--wow, he and Yaku were perfect for each other--and declaring, “Earth to captain, you owe me _konbini_ snacks. Come on, children, let’s go,” and suddenly Konoha and Yaku were dragging him and Akaashi out of the gym and into the muggy summer night air. Bokuto waved over his shoulder, probably off to drag some other first year into setting for him, and Kenma gave a halfhearted thumbs-up before disappearing back towards the sleeping areas, Switch in hand.

Yaku said something, all sarcastic and bubbling with amusement, and both Konoha and Akaashi laughed into their hands. Kuroo’s old flare for competition with Yaku lit up all too quickly, and he darted forward and inserted himself between Konoha and Akaashi. _Possessive much? Shut up, brain… .Okay, fine, maybe. You’re a piece of work, you know that? All part of my charm, baby._

“Hey, captain,” Konoha drawled, light green eyes studying him in a way that informed Kuroo he knew all about his little crush on his teammate. “Bet you a box of Pocky we beat you in tomorrow’s practice match.”

“No way,” Kuroo shot back, because Konoha was dangerous when it came to convincing people into elaborate schemes. “We’re getting revenge tomorrow, properly.”

“Sorry, ‘Nori, but he’s right this time,” Yaku said, shrugging at Konoha’s arched eyebrows.

“ _‘Nori,_ ” Kuroo said incredulously, watching the barest hint of red warm Yaku’s freckled face. “What, are you Mori, then?” _Cute. Gross. Wonder if Akaashi would let me call him something like that._

“ _Yes,_ ” Konoha scoffed. “You’re just jealous you’ve got nobody to call you _Tetsu_ .” Yaku laughed, bright and glittering with mischief, and elbowed Kuroo. _Pointy little gremlin._ “Hey, ‘Kaashi--”

“No,” Akaashi said immediately, staring at Konoha with a flat look that rang loudly of Kenma. Kuroo almost laughed. Yaku did, unabashedly. Konoha pouted. “Come on, you didn’t even let me finish my sentence!”

“Konoha, everything that comes out of your mouth past 10pm is generally safe to disregard,” Akaashi said, a faint smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. Kuroo was fascinated by it. Dimly, he realized that behind the reserved politeness he’d seen Akaashi use with Bokuto and most of his team, Akaashi Keiji dripped with sarcasm and glittered with wit. Kuroo felt the little burning thing of adrenaline and interest settle a bit farther into his chest. Konoha sighed dramatically, while Yaku laughed at him, holding his fist out. Akaashi gently bumped it with his own, and Kuroo caught his eye over the tiny pleased tilt of his mouth. _Oh, you are something._

“Honestly, the same goes for Kuroo here,” Yaku was saying. “Except instead of saying anything worthwhile he just becomes even more of a pain in the ass.”

“Hey!”

“Kuroo, you lectured me and Kenma for two hours about the importance of docasohexaenoic acid, as if having dumb chemistry knowledge battered into our heads would magically make us taller,” Yaku groaned. “It never seems to occur to you that chemistry is just _not_ interesting.”

“That’s a lie, you little pea-brain--”

“As much as I hate to agree with pain-in-the-ass-Kuroo-san, I think chemistry is interesting,” Akaashi murmurs. _Score._ Kuroo grinned at Yaku, then back at Akaashi, who just looked at him, lofty, eyes amused, just a little. Kuroo lifted his eyebrows at him, amused, just a little. _Two people are playing this game, huh?_

“Whatever, pain-in-the-ass,” Yaku said.

“Oh, you’d like me to be a pain in your ass--” He wasn’t imagining the soft laugh from beside him.

“OKAY,” Konoha interrupted, stepping sharply on Kuroo’s foot. “Enough about Mori’s ass, please, we’re here,” and he flung open the _konbini_ doors and vanished inside. Yaku followed suit, darting a pointed glance at Kuroo over his shoulder before disappearing towards the ice cream freezers at the back of the store. Kuroo turned to glance at Akaashi, who slipped through the closing doors and wandered over to the drinks, picking up an iced coffee and idly reading the label. 

“So,” Kuroo said, sidling up alonside the shorter boy, “can I buy you a drink?” Akaashi looked sharply at him, deadpan expression betrayed by a quirk of the mouth. _Gotcha_. Kuroo grinned. 

“You lost the game, so technically you’re paying anyway,” Akaashi pointed out, putting the iced coffee back and picking up a package of onigiri. 

“And if we’d won? Would you let me buy you a drink still?” Kuroo arched his eyebrows, eyes trailing over the light flush dusting Akaashi’s cheeks, the way his hand startled over the onigiri. Yaku called him a serial flirt. Kenma said it was his own fault girls seem to chase him down with boxes of chocolates three times a week. Maybe it was, to some extent, because Kuroo had always loved the thrill of the chase, of eye contact and subtle touches and delicate words, and Kuroo thought that maybe he did have a chance here and if he did he’d be the ultimate fool to not chase it with everything he had.

“Mm,” Akaashi said, pretending to read the ingredients on the onigiri package. “Konoha was right, you’re annoying.” Kuroo winced internally. “But yes. If only to talk about chemistry with someone who would actually listen.” He looked at Kuroo then, that little half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and Kuroo stepped closer to him. 

“Chemistry, huh?”

Akaashi’s face flattened. “Oh, that was awful. Way to go for the low-hanging fruit, Kuroo-san.”

“Oh, drop the _-san_ , I’m trying to flirt with you,” Kuroo groaned, leaning back. The half-smile tugged more, that same little pointed smirk dancing across Akaashi’s face, and Kuroo tilted his head and sent a smirk right back. “Is it working?”

Akaashi arched an eyebrow, and Kuroo grinned further at the amusement in those beautiful teal eyes. He thought about the reserved politeness Akaashi used with Bokuto earlier, with Konoha the year before, and how there was someone standing in front of him who beneath that politeness was just as much of a witty bastard as he was. The thought was thrilling, and Kuroo narrowed his eyes, waiting for an answer. He _liked_ Akaashi Keiji, beyond the infatuation and the adrenaline. _When was the last time I had an actual crush? Yaku, in first year? Before?_ The thought was startling, nearly enough for Kuroo to want to step back and reconsider his courting entirely, but Akaashi was standing right in front of him. Studying him. Smiling, just a little.

“Maybe a little.” _Fuck. You really have a thing for the sarcastic ones, idiot._ He opened his mouth to say something back, not entirely sure what it would be, but was saved the possible humiliation by Konoha and Yaku rushing up to them in a blur of chatter and armfuls of Pocky boxes, hands intertwined. Kuroo brushed away the thought of tangling his fingers with Akaashi’s. 

“‘Kaashi, you are _not_ drinking any more coffee today,” Konoha scowled, dropping a box of matcha Pocky into Akaashi’s hands. “They had your favorite flavor, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you,” Akaashi said, putting back the onigiri. “Fine, about the coffee, but you know I’m not getting any sleep tonight regardless.” 

“I know,” Konoha sighed, dropping his chin into the nest of Yaku’s curls and fixing Akaashi with a sharp green stare. “You really need to sleep, though, Akaashi, we’re at _volleyball training camp._ ”

“Class six doesn’t care,” Akaashi muttered, letting Konoha drag him to the register. 

“Who told you not to take class six college prep and run a volleyball team at the same time?”

“You,” Akaashi grumbled. Kuroo caught Yaku’s eye, impressed. _Class six. So he’s pretty, and feisty, and smart. Jesus fuck, Tetsurou, you’ve really done it this time, haven’t you?_ He wordlessly handed Konoha a handful of yen and watched him pay for eight boxes of Pocky, gratefully accepting the single box Yaku tossed him with a scoff. They left the _konbini,_ Yaku and Konoha swinging intertwined hands between them as they walked, Akaashi and Kuroo a half-step behind, both pensively nibbling on Pocky. 

“If you need help with chemistry stuff, or any science stuff really, I took college prep last year,” Kuroo offered. The thought of studying chemistry with Akaashi was inexplicably exciting, he thought awkwardly. _You want to talk to him about stuff you enjoy and banter with him just because you like talking to him. This isn’t just a crush, idiot. You really like him._

“I might take you up on that,” Akaashi said quietly, gently twirling a Pocky between long, elegant fingers. Kuroo plucked it from his hand, because he couldn’t exactly stand the graceful elegance of pale, slender fingers dancing over light green matcha Pocky, and stuck the end in his mouth, arching his eyebrows suggestively. Akaashi rolled his eyes, but Kuroo caught the little dash of pink on his cheeks and let it fill him with a lot more flirtatious confidence than was probably reasonable. “Come on, angel, am I really that bad?” _Angel_ . Kuroo wasn’t sure where that had come from, but he immediately decided he wanted to call Akaashi Keiji _angel_ for the rest of his life, the feeling only further set in stone by the delicate flush that spread over the setter’s cheeks, mouth twisting.

“Yes,” he said, snapping off the Pocky in Kuroo’s mouth. _No indirect kiss, huh?_ “You’re annoying, Pain-in-the-ass-Kuroo-san.” Ah, it was worth it for the teasing little smile on Akaashi’s face, Kuroo decided. He still wanted to taste it. Maybe, he thought wistfully as he watched Akaashi and Konoha disappear into the Fukurodani sleeping area, it would taste like the little crumb of matcha Pocky left in his mouth, just sweet enough to leave him wanting more. 

**Author's Note:**

> smh kuroo why do u act like this. find me on twt @peppershr1ke


End file.
